


Redefine Happiness

by goddessofcruelty



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse of historical events, Alternate Universe - Historical, Blow Jobs, Canonical Character Death, D/s, Drug Use, Homophobia, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor pairings - Freeform, More Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Public Sex, References to Torture, So much dying, Vietnam War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-01-24 08:09:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1597745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddessofcruelty/pseuds/goddessofcruelty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years since he's seen Sam. Two years of trudging through this hell on earth, the sweltering jungle, never knowing when you're going to be attacked or blown up.<br/>-<br/>Sam's mouth forms a perfect 'O' and he reaches behind and to Gabe's left, wiggling his fingers through the air. “You have wings...Beautiful wings of light and sound.”<br/>-----<br/>Dean and Cas are in Vietnam. Sam and Gabriel are back home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Destiel-Historical AU  
> Prompt: Sabriel-Hippies

“You're what?! Dean you _can't_ sign up.”

“My country needs me, Sammy.”

“This is about Dad, isn't it? Dean, you don't have to be his good little soldier any more!”

Dean hefts his duffel and rests his hand on his little brother's shoulder.

“You better keep up those grades and get into Stanford, or I'll come back and kick your ass.”

Sam pulls him into a hug.

“You damned well better come back. Or I'm gonna come after you.”

-

Two years since he's seen Sam. Two years of trudging through this hell on earth, the sweltering jungle, never knowing when you're going to be attacked or blown up.

Dean's thinking about how happy Sam must be, around people who are smart like him, because o _f course_ he got into Stanford. Dean always knew he would.

It's been months since he got a letter, but that's no surprise.

_Ain't nothing on any kinda schedule out here._

Benny kicks him in the boot, and when Dean looks up, Benny points his chin at the jeep coming up the way.

“Looks like we got our new C.O.” His soft drawl fills the statement with his opinion on commanding officers. They've been through three already.

A soft whistle comes from over to their left, and they look to see Gordon Walker beckoning to them. Sharing a look, Benny and Dean get up and wander over towards him.

He leads them to where Bobby Singer has some sort of contraption set up. He's holding something to his ear.

“Bobby got a radio inside the tent.” Gordon explains as he crouches down.

“Shut up ya idjit, I can't hear.”

Bobby relays the conversation.

It's nothing real interesting, but sure better than sitting on your ass doing nothing.

Eventually Rufus and Garth come and join them.

“Seems like a real tough ass so far.” Bobby is not impressed.

Dean snorts. “We'll see.”

He leans back and lights his smoke, as Rufus pulls out a deck of cards and deals them all into a poker game.

-

It's hours later when Captain Novak deigns to visit his troops and those cold blue eyes are full of judgment. Until they land on Sergeant Winchester.

He falters in his steps, and the eyes narrow as if he's thinking. “You Winchester?”

Dean groans inwardly. Another fan of his Dad's.

“Yeah.”

One eyebrow ticks up.

“Er. Sir.”

Dean curses himself. He ought to know better. These new guys always insist on protocol at the beginning.

Novak nods and continues on down the line, while the corporal that he brought with him (Shurley, Bobby tells them later) follows him, like a lapdog.

-

Later on, they place bets on how long it will take Shurley to crack.

Dean wins for 'three days'.

Bobby sells him some rotgut that he procured out of thin air, and he gets so sloshed that he falls into a river.

The Corporal blames Dean, of course, and he gets called into the command tent.

He only just remembers to sketch a hasty salute as he walks in, and stops dead in his tracks.

Because the new CO has given into the heat, and has only a pair of the army-green pants on, and _jesus fuck_ is this guy hot.

“Winchester.”

Dean ducks his head, hoping the shade of the tent hides the blush on his cheeks, and the fact that he was _just checking out his commanding officer._

“...Sir.” He realizes that he's supposed to answer after a second.

The man comes closer, and Dean is doing everything he can not to look at him, and he could really use some distance right now, but that doesn't seem like it's going to happen.

“Dean.”

The way that Novak says his name has him lifting his head curiously. Because it's softer and there's a hint of something and yes, the man is _looking_ right back at him.

“Sir?”

He doesn't know what to say, still unsure, and then Novak is _definitely_ in his space, and Dean can see for the first time that he has a couple inches on his CO, but he still feels smaller, pinioned by that wide blue gaze.

Novak tilts his chin up and licks his lips, and Dean can't help but track the movement.

“You've got two choices, Winchester.”

The low voice shoots sparks down Dean's spine, because it's dark and full of promises.

His eyes flick back up to the Captain's as the other man continues.

“You can walk out of here and we won't ever speak of this again. Or you can get on your knees for me and see what happens.”

It takes Dean all of three seconds to drop to his knees, feverishly hoping that this isn't some sort of setup that will have his fellow soldiers needling him for the next year.

As he turns his face up, the Captain leans down and finds his lips, not even bothering with softness.

No, he kisses brutally and hard, tongue invading Dean's mouth, exploring, tasting, _claiming_.

There's no room for anything but submission, and Dean gives it, after a weak struggle just to salvage some pride.

“That's my good boy,” the Captain says approvingly, stepping back.

Deans flushes faintly, and casts his gaze down onto the tent floor, and then he catches sight of the radio that Bobby had planted.

 _Shit_. He hopes that the boys aren't listening right now, but somehow he's sure they are.

Novak follows his gaze and smirks.

“I shut it off before you came in.”

Dean breathes a sigh of pure relief.

“Maybe next time I'll let them listen to me fuck you.”

And now Dean finds he can't breathe.

The Captain is standing in front of him now, chucking under Dean's chin so that he has to look up.

“Such pretty lips, Winchester. I noticed them the first time I saw you. I bet they'd look even prettier on my cock. What do you say, shall we find out?”

Dean licks his lips, and nods once, and Novak chuckles.

“Oh no, my pretty boy. You're going to have to ask for it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Cas.”

Dean tilts his head slightly.

“My name is Cas.”

“Yes...Cas.”

“Yes, what, baby?”

“Yes, I'd like to suck your dick.”

The way Dean says it, it's belligerent, and there's a flash of fire in the green eyes at _having_ to say it, but the intent is what matters, and Cas unfastens the army fatigues.

Dean start to reach for him, then halts halfway there, because he's not really sure about the rules of this game that they're playing.

Cas smirks and nods. “Go ahead.”

Dean reaches for the Captain's half-hard cock and curls his hand around it, sliding along it a moment, then leaning in and striping his tongue along the underside.

He wouldn't have admitted it, but he's done this plenty before, even all the way back before boot camp, when it was far more common of a thing.

Back in high school, in locker rooms and men's bathrooms, and sometimes in bars that he snuck into.

So he takes Cas' dick into his mouth with relish, swirling his tongue around the rapidly hardening length, then presses along the underside.

Cas groans above him, reaching to drag his blunt fingernails over Dean's scalp, which makes a shiver run through the kneeling man.

Dean hollows his cheeks and _sucks_ , then presses forward once more, taking Cas all the way in, loosening his jaw until his nose presses up against the Captain.

Green eyes turn up to watch as he pulls back out, and Dean rumbles in satisfaction as he sees the way that Cas is barely holding onto his control.

Those incredible blue eyes snap open, and he reaches down and curls his hands around either side of Dean's head, and Cas begins fucking his face in earnest, thrusting in and out to his own rhythm, and Dean fists the fabric of his pants, just holding on.

Dean can hear the hitch in the Captain's gasping, and then without further warning, Novak is spilling on Dean's tongue, filling his mouth with come.

Dean swallows it all down because the Captain is holding him where he is. He flicks his tongue over the softening length as Cas slowly withdraws, making sure he's got every drop.

The Captain smirks down at Dean as he tucks himself away, and then takes a seat on his bunk, gaze slowly traveling over the soldier.

His gaze lingers at Dean's crotch, where his interest in the proceedings is obvious.

“Now, Winchester, I want you to bring yourself off while I watch.”

\-----

“C'mon, baby, just give it a try. You know I wouldn't steer you wrong.”

Honey amber eyes blink up at him, and Sam sighs and opens his mouth.

Another mouth is pressed up against his, tongue swiped through, before he pulls back and deposits the sugar cube on Sam's tongue.

Sam lays back, head in Gabriel's lap and the shorter man runs his finger's through Sam's long hair.

They've just come back from a protest, and Sam feels horribly _conflicted_ about those because Dean is off over there fighting, but it's under false pretenses, and he just wants it to end and Dean to come home.

And he's always so tense after, that Gabe does everything he can to make Sam relax.

Which Sam is endlessly grateful for.

“Love you, Gabe.”

The older man is sucking on a lollipop and grinning down at him.

Sam's mouth forms a perfect 'O' and he reaches behind and to Gabe's left, wiggling his fingers through the air. “You have wings...Beautiful wings of light and sound.”

Sam shakes his head suddenly, and his eyes go wide. “I can see sound. Oh my god.”

Gabriel giggles and moves so that he is perched over Sam, and he leans in and kisses that sugar sweet mouth.

Sam closes his eyes and delves into the kiss, holding Gabe tightly to him, tight enough that he will leave bruises behind, but the older man is beyond caring, because nothing in the history of anything has ever felt as good as this kiss.

There's fireworks and music and sirens...

And then Gabe is being pulled off him and they're both confused, and Sam flails because everything's turned dark and they are surrounded by demons.

“No, give my angel back,” he roars, and then his arms are wrenched behind his back, and Sam is still fighting as they load him into a box.

The box is full of _spiders_ , and they're crawling all over him, and they won't stop, and the demons won't let him out and Sam screams himself hoarse until he passes out.

-

He wakes up and Gabriel's dad is there, staring down at him disapprovingly.

“Mr. Novak!” Sam says, or tries to say, he has to clear his throat a few times. He sits up, and feels dizzy and has to sit back down.

“Sam, I'm disappointed in you. We can't have an intern with our firm landing in jail. So you need to decide whether you're going to let my son drag you down, or if you're going to shape up and build yourself a career. Because this'll be the only time I bail you out.”

Gabriel is simmering with silent rage the entire ride home, but Sam is _thinking_ , really thinking hard.

He's thinking about Dean coming home to him not in school. About how the marches make him feel sick to his stomach. But mostly, he's thinking about the demons and spiders.

Sam gives up the peace movement, and Gabriel.

He keeps his hair.

Sam sees Gabriel sometimes at the office, he's always into something new, always seems to be searching for himself.

Sam wishes he could be that someone, but Sam as he is, the soon to be high-powered lawyer, just isn't enough apparently.

Because Gabriel won't talk to him anymore, and one day he just up and vanishes.

Sam hears through the grapevine that he's in San Francisco.

He hopes Gabriel is happy there.


	2. Chapter 2

It takes Sam seven months to realize that he's miserable without Gabriel. It takes him three more to decide what to do about it.

But when an assignment comes up out California way, Sam jumps on the chance.

The address that he has, that Gabriel's father had, is a house full of vacant, drugged people, and none of them have ever heard of Gabriel Novak.

Sam spends a day drawing Gabriel as best he can, and then he goes back to the house and shows it around. He tells them that Gabriel has a sweet tooth, and he likes to pull pranks, and anything else he can think of.

A couple girls tell him that maybe they've seen this guy in the park somewhere.

Sam heads that way, but the streets start getting very crowded right around the intersection of Haight and Ashbury, and he's just lucky that he's tall, because it helps him navigate.

By the time he reaches the park, there's barely room to move, and then Sam stops dead at the rise of a hill, because the park is _swamped_ , filed with a teeming mass of humanity.

“Who _are_ all these people?”

“Flower Children, my friend!” An arm is thrown around him, and he's being offered a hand-rolled cigarette before he's even seen the speaker's face. “We're here celebrating love and peace, man.”

Sam declines the cigarette. “I don't smoke, thanks.”

“Man, this ain't tobacco...” The guy actually giggles, and Sam takes a step back and looks at his face.

“Still, no thanks. I'm just looking for a...friend.”

“Man, we're all looking for friends here. You just gotta feel the love.” He abruptly hugs Sam and the taller man freezes, and then awkwardly pats a shoulder.

“Um, thanks. I guess. But I meant a specific friend.” Sam pulls out his drawing and shows the man.

“Not familiar, man, sorry.” Then he snaps his fingers. “But hey, I got this friend who's just great at faces. Lets go ask her.”

Sam doesn't have any better leads, so he follows the man, who he doesn't even have a name for, further into the crowd.

\-----

“Son of a bitch.” It's a phrase that he's learned from Dean, who uses it rather extensively, but it suits his purpose for now.

“Problem, Cas?”

Dean is stretched out in the Captain's cot, lazily flipping through his own mail.

“Yeah, back home.”

That's their code phrase for their wives and families. They don't talk about it.

They can't think about normalcy or what's waiting for them in the States. They can't live that way.

They have to focus on the here and now, them and this war they're fighting.

“Ah.” Dean desists, and goes back to his own letter.

They know some about each other, just generalities.

Cas has read Dean's file. Dean got his info from Bobby.

Cas knows about Lisa and Ben, about Dean's father, and about Sam. Of course, he'd know about Sam anyways.

When Dean gets drunk, he brags about how smart Sammy is, and how he's going to really make something of himself.

And you can't be in the Army for long without hearing about the legend that is John Winchester.

Cas is an Army brat himself. He _knows_.

There's never going to be a time when they discuss their fathers.

Bobby told Dean all about Cas' wife Meg, about his slew of brothers, about his high-priced lawyer father.

Cas' life back home is all apple pie and sunshine. And then he gets his birthday called. His dad is former army, but won't call in favors. Insists that Cas finally make something of himself.

Dean gets it.

They get each other. Which is why this whole thing works. Because they're both willing to live in the moment.

\-----

“You just gotta live in the moment, man.”

The guy he followed home, who Sam eventually finds out is named Ash, is expositing on his theory of the world, or some shit like that.

They're waiting for his friend Jo, the one who's good at faces, and her girlfriend Charlie, to come back home.

Other than that trio, there's apparently several others who live here, or are camping here, or just hanging out. It's hard to say.

he's absently watching a dark-haired girl and a redhead make out in the corner, and he doesn’t even realize he's staring until the dark haired one, Meg- his brain supplies, calls out and asks if he wants to join them.

Sam shakes his head. And not just because the redhead terrifies him. (He's reasonably certain she might stab him for no reason at all.) He's far more interested in finding Gabe than he is in hooking up with random girls.

Meg shrugs and...Donna (maybe?) smirks, looking him over. “Your loss, Stanford.” Her voice is pure sex, and Sam maybe regrets the decision a tiny bit.

He's distracted from the duo by the entrance of another redhead, only this one's hair is cropped short enough to be a boy's, and she's got her fingers twined with a girl with long, blonde hair.

“There's my girl,” says Ash, pointing his finger like a gun at who Sam now presumes is Jo.

Sam gets up from the floor, and both women look up at him as he extends his hand.

“Hi, uh, my name's Sam. I'm looking for a man named Gabriel.”

He shows them the drawing, but both women shake their heads. Charlie invites him to stay there while he's looking for Gabriel, and since everyone seems nice enough, and he has a limited supply of money, Sam agrees.

-

He rethinks that choice when he's awoken at 2 am by loud banging upstairs and then when he hears the noises that go with it, Sam covers his face with a pillow and groans.

This is like being back at university. _Only no one here is smart_.

Turns out the upstairs neighbors are Balthazar and Crowley, and they're English like the Beatles and the Rolling Stones. They're also both complete dicks. They spend all their time insulting everything American or engaging in some truly bizarre sex.

Sam declines that invitation as well.

There are parties every night, sometimes three days long, and Sam shows everyone Gabriel's picture.

After twelve days, he's beginning to despair, when Gabe just fucking _walks in the front door._

Sam extricates himself from a conversation with a girl named Ruby, who's very clear about where her intentions lie, and takes three steps.

He stops because the guy who's walked in behind Gabe has just thrown his arms around the shorter man's shoulders.

It's never occurred to him that Gabe might have found someone else.

\-----

“Fuck, Cas, fuck it hurts!”

“Sh, I know babe, you gotta keep quiet, there's more out there.”

Dean's half-delirious, blood soaking the leg of his fatigues ,and Cas refuses to think about the odds of him losing it.

He's just focused on getting Dean away from the battle.

“Sh,” he keeps saying, even though Dean's dropped off to mumbling. He doesn't know what else to do. They can't retreat back the way they came. The damned Viet Cong had collapsed a trench right underneath their fucking position, and salted it with mines.

When the ground had given in, a good chunk of his soldiers had fallen in, which had set off the explosives, sending shrapnel everywhere.

He knows he lost Walker and Shurley. Maybe Turner. It was hard to say. He saw...pieces...of them before his eyes had fallen on Dean dragging himself away from the sinkhole.

Now it's just the two of them lost in the jungle, surrounded by the enemy.

\-----

Sam's heart drops and he's about to turn away, but he wants to just memorize Gabriel in that moment, because he looks happy.

He's smiling and laughing, grinning up at the guy, and he's still just as attractive as he's always been.

Sam closes his eyes to blink back tears, and then he hears his name.

He opens them just in time to see Gabriel rushing towards him.

Gabe flings himself into Sam's arms, and presses candy sweet lips to the taller man's.

Sam loses himself in that kiss, in the feeling of _rightness_ that has been missing in his life for almost a year, and they don't stop until there's a throat cleared right next to them.

Sam looks into the highly amused eyes of the man that had followed Gabe in the door.

“You must be Sam,” is all he says, and Sam looks at Gabriel.

“Oh, this is Luke,” he says before kissing Sam again.

Luke rolls his eyes. “I'm his older brother,” he says when they are forced to split apart in order to breathe.

“I thought your older brother was overseas.”

Gabe grins. “Two of them are, Mike and Cas. I got a couple of sisters rattling around back East too. Anna and Naomi.”

Sam's eyebrows arch. “That's a big family.”

Luke sighs. “And they're all shits.”

“Except Michael.”

Luke mutters. “Especially Michael.”

“Mike's dad's favorite,” Gabe informs Sam before dragging him off and pushing him onto a couch. “Drives Luke crazy.”

Sam really doesn't care, because having Gabriel in his lap is distracting him in all the right ways.

“I see you've missed me,” Gabe teases, and then rocks his hips forwards to move against Sam.

“You have no idea,” Sam groans, and then pulls Gabe in for more of those sweet kisses.

\-----

Cas finally drags Dean into camp two days later, and he's feverish and delirious. He just keeps saying things like, “Dad, no.” and “Please stop.”

It's breaking Cas' heart.

He tried to wash Dean's leg by dumping some river water on it. He had nothing else.

Cas hovers for an hour before they tell him that Dean will keep the leg, though there will be horrific scarring.

Finally, the new corporal, someone named Garth, manages to drag him off and have himself seen to. There's nothing wrong with Cas that a good meal and some sleep can't fix.

Unfortunately, there's little of either to be had.

Their position is compromised, and they're forced to move out under fire the next morning.

Dean's already up on his feet, and he and Cas have a vicious argument about it. In hushed tones, of course.

Dean wins. because he's right. There's barely enough medical personnel for the really badly wounded.

Cas hands Dean off to Lafitte, and tell the man to take good care of him.

Benny throws the captain a wink. “Always have, sir.”

Dean glances down and away at that, and Cas understands. He offers Benny a tired smile.

“For which I'm grateful.”

He backs up a step and gives the signal, and his men file out into the darkness, as their ground support begins firing into the jungle.

\-----

Gabriel takes Sam to his favorite place in the park, a little clearing inside the trees that are planted there. Even with the hugs crowd constantly wandering through the land, this tiny little area is undisturbed.

He makes a picnic and they lay on their sides and feed each other.

Afterward, Gabe rolls a joint and wheedles Sam into smoking it. It tastes horrible but makes him so relaxed that he doesn't really mind.

He laughs as Gabriel climbs over him, tugging on the borrowed jeans' zip.

“Good thing Luke was willing to share. I hate those old man outfits.”

“They're _professional_. I need to look presentable on the job.”

Gabriel has a lot to say on that subject, but he's too busy wrapping those sweet lips around Sam's dick and bringing him to hardness.

It doesn't take long, because there's nothing sexier than watching his cock pistoning in and out of Gabe's mouth.

And then the shorter man stands up and slides out of his cords, then kneels over Sam again, but this time backwards.

“Open me up, big guy. I want to fuck myself on you.”

Sam groans and eagerly reaches for Gabe's ass, pulling the soft flesh apart and sliding his tongue along the dark cleft between.

Gabriel gasps and then lowers his head, licking along Sam's painfully hard dick before closing that tight, wet heat around it.

Sam swirls his tongue around the tight pucker of Gabriel's hole, and then curls it, slowly breaching that tight ring of muscle.

Gabe moans around his cock, and Sam has to take a deep breath and dig his nails into his palms to keep from finishing right then.

He tugs Gabe back a bit, whimpering slightly as the suction lessens and then vanishes, and then offers two fingers to the shorter man.

Gabriel eagerly accepts, sucking on them like one of his ubiquitous lollipops.

When Sam finally pulls them free, they're spit slick, and Sam immediately moves Gabe back so that he can slide his middle finger into him.

Gabe pushes back eagerly, so Sam pulls it free and adds the second finger. He twists them and stretches them apart, and he can't help but admire how perfectly Gabe is opening up for him, just like he was always made to be this for Sam.

“Enough, enough, I'm ready!”

Gabe wriggles and Sam swats him, but pulls his fingers free.

Gabriel turns and repositions himself, then slowly lowers himself onto Sam, and his hands go to Gabe's hips to hold him in place a moment.

He hasn't been with anyone since Gabriel left and this, _this_ is overwhelming and intense, that silky heat wrapping around him, squeezing him tightly, and Sam just needs to remember how to _breathe_.

“You're absolutely gorgeous,” he breathes, and Gabriel, his brash and bold angel, actually blushes.

“Must been some good weed.”

Sam can't respond because Gabriel starts moving, and all ability for speech has been stolen from him.

He reaches for Gabriel, slides one strong hand around the other man's length and matches his rhythm.

When Gabriel spills over that hand, crying out into the silence, Sam can't hold back anymore.

He wraps his free hand around Gabe's hip, and holds him while he thrusts up hard a handful of times, and then he, too, is coming, dick pulsing inside his lover.

Sam gasps when Gabriel pulls off of him with a soft whimper, and then curls up next to him. He reaches out, wraps himself around Gabriel and takes a deep, contented sigh.

Finally, everything is alright again.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Sam comes home to Gabriel packing their things in bags. This is nothing new. They've moved half a dozen times since they'd re-found each other.

People come and people go in San Francisco, they've lost track of friends and lovers and roommates.

(Balthazar has gotten sick with some sort of very rare pneumonia, and Crowley sold everything they had to take him back home to England.)

This feels different somehow, and he steps into Gabe's line of sight.

Who responds to Sam's inquiring glance with a tight-lipped grin, and that's _so_ far away from what Sam is used to seeing on Gabriel, that he's immediately worried.

“Gabe. What's going on?”

He doesn't answer for a moment, shoving clothes into the bags as if they've personally offended him.

And then Gabriel stops, and his shoulders shake a couple times, and he's _still_ not looking at Sam.

“Michael. Killed in action. This stupid, _fucking_ war...”

Sam reaches out and pulls Gabe close to him, holding on tight as the shorter man presses his face into Sam's chest, crying softly.

“I'm so sorry, babe. Fuck. So we're headed back home?”

“Yeah, Luke's borrowing a van.”

“A van?”

Gabe nods against Sam's chest.

“Meg and Donna are coming too. Meg is my sister-in-law.”

Sam's confused, furrowing a brow as Gabe pulls back, wiping his eyes.

“She's married to my brother Cas.”

“But. I thought she was with Donna?”

Gabriel shrugs. “No idea how that's going to work out when he comes home.” There's a bitter laugh. "If he comes home."

There's a horn beeping outside, and Sam grabs the bags of stuff. Gabe goes to check on the girls.

“Man, I am so sorry,” Sam tells Luke when he gets outside, “My brother's over there too, and I can't even imagine.”

Luke lifts his eyes to Sam, and it's like looking into the pits of hell. Sam's never seen anyone so devoid of self, so deep in grief that he can't function.

“Luke.” Sam reaches out and settles his hand on the older man's shoulder.

Luke shrugs him off and looks away. “He's the only thing I ever cared about, Sam.”

Sam has no idea what to say to that, and just watches Luke walk away, death written in every movement of his body.

“Sam?”

He turns to looks at Gabe. “Luke is really fucked up over this.”

The shorter mans nods sadly. “They were twins. Never spent a moment apart until Mikey up and followed in Dad's footsteps. When Luke found out, he came out here.”

Gabe watches his brother, feeling like he's lost him too.

“They haven't spoken since.” He looks up at Sam, eyes welling up again. “Guess they never will.”

\-----

“God damn it. Damn this place. Damn those fuckers. The _bastards_. I'm going to kill every last one of them...”

Cas is pacing back and forth, swearing almost continually, waving one of those tiny telegrams.

Every soldier knew what those meant. And since Cas had only one family member over here, Dean already knew.

He just let Cas rant, because he knew how he'd feel if it had been Sam.

Hell, Dean had felt that way when they'd got Benny. He'd cried in Cas' arms for hours after that mission.

It still hurt and Dean gritted his teeth against the images of Benny's head falling off his neck, some razor wire trap of the enemy. He thinks he will always have nightmares.

“Cas?” Dean ventures tentatively as the cursing winds down.

The Captain just hands him the flimsy paper and goes to lay on his cot.

Dean pulls it close and smooths the wrinkles from it to read it.

Michael had been leading his platoon when a pit had opened up beneath him and he'd fallen right on a mine buried beneath it.

“Jesus.” Dean breathes. _At least he died instantly._

Dean has heard the scream of the men who had survived a thing like that. A quick death is a mercy over here.

He folds the telegram and puts it in the center drawer of Cas' desk, then gets up, eying the Captain at his cot.

Cuddling...is not a thing they do. They fuck. They drink.

This...well it's not a line Dean ever wanted to cross. Feelings were reserved for Lisa and Ben back home, for Sammy lawyering safe in DC.

He does it anyway, climbs in behind Cas and wraps his arms around the dark haired man, just holds him even though he goes stiff, just holds him and eventually Cas relaxes, and Dean can feel the tremors run through him, but he doesn’t' make a sound and neither does Dean.

Dean slips away after Cas has fallen asleep.

They don't talk about it.

\-----

“How did you end up marrying Gabe's brother?”

Meg shrugs. She takes a hit from the joint she's just lit, thinking about it.

“It just seemed natural. We both come from military families. I never really liked any guys but him. He was it since high school, pretty much.”

Sam watches the road for a minute, listening to the snores coming from Gabe and Luke in the bed in back.

He glances in the rearview mirror to see Donna silently stretched out between them. She's taken on the job of trying to comfort Luke.

“What about her?”

“Who, Abaddon?” Meg shrugs again. “We work for the moment. I'm not the exclusive type.”

She's quiet a moment. “I told Cas about her though. Sent him a letter. We've never lied to each other.”

“Her name is Abaddon?!”

Meg snickers. “Yeah, it's some religious crap her mom picked out of a hotel bible.”

She sobers up and turns to look over the red head a moment. “Spent her childhood getting beat. Mother thought she was possessed by a demon.”

“Fuck, no wonder she's always high.”

Meg turns back around to look out the front windshield. “We all got our reasons, man.”

She tilts her head and eyes him. “What are yours, Samuel?”

Sam shrugs. “I'm here because I love Gabriel.”

The dark-haired woman laughs.

“That's enough to fuck anyone up.”

-

They make it in time for the funeral, the group of them with their bright colors and beads, long hair and hand holding, standing out among the rigid military precision of the rest of the attendees.

When the service is over, Mr. Novak ignores his sons in favor of striding right up to Sam, and putting a finger in his face.

“You. You had such potential, Winchester. Damn shame. You'll never work in the legal profession again. I'll make sure of that.”

He turns on Luke next. “He had no one to protect his back because you were too much of a coward to fight for your country. A hero like your brother deserved better.”

They're all too stunned by his vitriol to do anything but gawk as Novak turns and strides away, not even bothering to address Gabriel.

Donna and Meg wrap their arms around Luke, while Gabe and Sam cling to each other.

The quintet stays until everyone else is gone, until there's no more sound but the silence of the graveyard.

Then they head as one to the van where they all curl up together, finish off a bottle of whiskey and the rest of their weed, and then at last they sleep.

\-----

They're running again, through a dark jungle in the middle of the night, enemy fire shooting over their heads.

Camp had been ambushed, more of those _fucking_ tunnels, and there's no order to this retreat.

They're just running, and Dean doesn't know where the _fuck_ anyone is, but he's stopping every so often behind a tree and shooting at muzzle flashes, but he can't see _shit_.

The bastards blend into the jungle and you never even see them until its too late.

Bobby pulls up next to him, cursing the enemy under his breath, and shaking his head at Dean. “Ain't seen no one but you.”

And next he's falling as red blooms across his chest ,and Dean hits the dirt, tasting it in his mouth as he crawls the inches to Bobby, shaking him.

“Bobby, man, don't you fucking die on me. _Bobby_!”

But it's no use, his friend is gone, and Dean feels a pinch on his arm and looks down to see the furrow spilling blood.

“Fuck.” He clings to Bobby's cooling corpse, because he's lost sight of which way they were running and moving the wrong way, delivering himself into the clutches of the enemy, would be the worst thing he could do.

He hears movement in the reeds next to him, and quickly pulls Bobby's body over his, covering his face, thinking maybe they would be taken for two dead guys instead of one.

It doesn't work.

Bobby is ripped off of him, and the last thing he sees, before the butt of a rifle smashes him in the face, is the black painted face of a Viet Cong.

-

It's also the first thing he sees when he wakes up. The face withdraws, and Dean realizes that he's in some sort of prison.

That's about all the time he has to think before the torture starts.

Then it's just blood and pain and screaming.

Eventually he passes out again.

-

This time when he wakes up, he's encased in darkness.

Dean tries to say something, but all that comes out is a strangled croak, and then he makes a stupid decision and tries to move.

The pain hits him like a brick wall and Dean is puking his guts out, before he even realizes that there's a bucket being held up for him.

A tiny flame lights up, and he lifts his eyes to see Garth, looking like he'd gone several rounds with Cassius Clay.

He attempts a grin, which pulls at the busted lip and reveals a couple missing teeth.

“Hey Dean. Welcome to the Hanoi Hilton.”

\-----

It's Gabriel's turn to comfort Sam as he reads a telegram.

“What the fuck does Missing In Action even mean? There's a possibility that he's alive somewhere right?”

Gabriel nods vehemently.

“Yes exactly. They just don't know where he is right now. He's probably off getting drunk in one of those famous brothels or something.”

Sam half-smiles, because that does sound like something Dean would do.  He was rather famous for his womanizing before Lisa settled him down.

“We just have to keep up hope.”

His face falls again though, as he sees Luke in his usual spot, leaned against the living room corner of the place they've rented in DC.

Just sitting there, blank and empty.

“What are we going to do about your brother?”

Gabriel looks over and shakes his head. “I don't know, Sammy. I don't think there's any fixing what's broken in him.”

-

Turns out Gabriel's right.

They end up going to another funeral a few days later.

The four of them are the only ones there.

Meg can't stop crying, while Donna has gone silent and numb.

Mr. Novak was disinclined to appear, although he did reluctantly allow them to lay Luke to rest alongside his twin.

“He always looked out for me, y'know, before he left home.”

Gabriel tosses a wildflower on top of the mound of dirt.

Sam thinks a moment and steps forward, dropping his own flower, watching the purple petals swirl as they drift through the air. “I didn't know him very long, but I did know that he always tried to do what he thought was best.”

Abaddon's flower is a bright red. “He loved more deeply than anyone I have ever known. I hope he's together with Michael now.”

Tears still streamed down Meg's cheeks as her bright yellow daisy settled on top of the others. “He had the brightest soul I've ever seen. He was like the sun, lit up the room when he came in.”

Gabriel looks around and reaches out for Meg and Sam. They all join hands in a circle around Luke's grave. Nobody knows any hymns, so they sing Ruby Tuesday.

_"Yesterday don't matter if it's gone..."_

They stand there for a moment of silence and then head back to their place.

The quartet go through bottle after bottle of booze before midnight hits, and then they all curl around Gabriel on the single mattress that furnishes their bedroom.


	4. Chapter 4

It's June when they get a letter from Crowley. It's weeks old, stamped and forwarded on from California, and then DC, and now to New York, where they're crashing with Lilith, a friend of Meg's, and her brother.

Meg cries when Gabe reads to them that Balthazar has died. Crowley says the blonde just never recovered from his illness. And that the doctors aren't even sure that what he had was really pneumonia.

Gabriel's voice breaks at the last line.

“...and now I think I've got it.”

Sam cards a hand through Gabe's hair and takes the letter away. He folds it and sets it on the mantle behind some candle remnants and a glass pipe.

“I think that they would want us to have a drink for them.”

Alistair looks up from where he's been braiding Lilith's hair. “I know a great place in Greenwich.”

-

They're on their second round dedicated to the Englishmen when there's a disturbance at the doorway of the Stonewall Inn.

“Raid,” hollers the bartender, and Lilith grabs Meg and Donna's hands and they run.

Sam arches a brow at Alistair. “Man, ain't you ever been in a raid before?”

The taller man shakes his head.

“They're gonna throw a few punches, call us names, and then fuck off. But if there's girls...” Alistair shakes his head. “Lets just say they fucked up some girls few months back. Said if there were in this kind of place, meant they were whores. One of 'em died.”

“Holy fuck.” Sam can't even believe it. He doesn't come from a place where cops are to be feared. Even back in San Fran, they'd been kinda dicks, but never something like that.

He's about to get his first taste of police brutality, because he sticks out from the crowd, and they seize on that as they are lined up to be arrested.

Sam's called things he's never heard of, and they just start hitting him with their batons, and he hasn't done anything but stand there. Everyone just stands back and watches, because no one wants it to be them.

Except for Gabriel.

Sam has never loved anyone more in that moment, because little Gabe goes right up to an officer who's got thirty pounds on him, at least, and throws a punch.

The guy's so shocked at being fought back against, that he just takes the hit and staggers back.

But Gabe's not done with that one blow, he's letting out everything he always keeps so bottled up tightly inside, and he's insane.

And it's like his rage incites the crowd. Because they're refusing to cooperate and even though Gabriel is quickly restrained, he and Sam dropped bruised and bloody side by side, things get ugly.

They're pushed outside, and somehow word has got out, and the streets are _packed_ with people.

“Oh, fuck.” Sam follows Gabe's gaze, with the one eye that's not swollen. To see that they've got Donna, and she's absolutely losing her shit all over the bastards.

They both cringe as a baton just comes right across her face and for a minute everything is still. Then Donna turns to the crowd and screams, “Why the fuck don't you do something?”

Gabriel and Sam look at each other, and then together they rush to Donna's aid.

\-----

“What the fuck do they even want from us?”

He knows, it just feels good to rail and swear at the walls. It's after another “information gathering” session, where there's been no questions asked, just pain, so much pain. And then the demands.

Dean is curled up on his cot, coughing up blood.

Garth can't even answer him, he's so far gone right now. And Dean's worried as hell about the kid, because he was too skinny to begin with, and they've all rapidly dropped weight here.

Mostly because the guards rarely bother to feed them.

Dean's got half his rice saved though, and he crawls it over to Garth, rubs the guy's shoulder.

“C'mon buddy. Gotta eat something.”

Garth finally turns his face up, and his face is wet with tears. It rocks Dean back because through all of this Garth has never cried.

“Dean, I broke today.”

He closes his eyes for a brief moment and then nodded softly. “Tell me.”

Garth does, tells Dean about what's he's confessed, about how he said what they wanted him to say, signed the statement they gave him to sign.

“It's alright, kid, did what ya had to do.”

Dean strokes his hair and fights back his fear. He knows it'll happen to him too.

-

Cas is driving the nurses crazy. They won't give him any news about what's happening in the war.

He's been pulled back to a safe zone, if there is such a thing, and condemned to a hospital. They won't even tell him where he is.

All he can think about is that last look at Dean's face before the camp had erupted in chaos, bullets filling the night along with the screams of dying men.

When he's not too wracked with pain to think. He's so covered in bandages that he doesn't know what's wrong, and the doctors always seem to come check on him when he's passed out from whatever drug they're pumping him with.

It's apparently his lucky day because an actual doctor comes to speak with him, and Cas finds out that he's been riddles with bullets, and the only reason he's still alive is pure dumb luck.

Because they pulled over ten bullets from him during surgery and not one nicked anything fatal.

“You must have an angel watching over you, Captain Novak. Unfortunately, due to the sheer amount of wounds, you're technically classified as a 30 Out.”

Cas is going home. Back to Meg.

“And my command?”

“I'm sorry, Captain. You were the only survivor.”

Cas can't breathe. There's no air, and he's drowning, and blackness is closing around him.

Right up until the doctor slaps him.

And then it's a deep shuddering breath and Cas closes his eyes.

“No. Survivors.”

_Dean_.

“Three listed as MIA, the rest are accounted for. I'm sorry, son.”

Cas nods and turns his face to the wall.

For the first time, he gratefully sinks into the embrace of the morphine.

-

There comes the day that Dean has been dreading for a long time.

The day that he waits with his half-ration of rice, waits for Garth to come back, so he can take care of him.

He waits until the sun comes up once more, then he slowly eats the rice himself.

Dean picks up the ratty blanket that Garth has been using, curls it into a ball and wraps his arms around it, whispering a eulogy to his lost friend into the dank prison air.

\-----

“Cas is coming home.” Gabriel exhales and passes the joint to Sam, who takes a hit and holds, handing it on to Meg.

They've just gotten home from a giant music festival and they're still riding the high.

“Yeah, I got a letter too. Don't know what he expects from me. I told him about Donna and asked for a divorce.”

“You think he's gonna go for that? You know Cas, he's old fashioned. He's going to want his wife and house.”

“I'm sure you'll be able to work something out.” Sam is sympathetic and rests a hand on Meg's arm.

She eyes him. “I don't think there's much of a chance of that. I'm not leaving Donna. Ever.”

The woman in question comes into the room, cradling her broken arm. “Well. That is good to know, since I got the stuff for a birthday cake.”

“Aw, hell it's your birthday, Megs?”

Meg closes her eyes and takes another hit. “Happy birthday to me.”

-

When they wake up the next morning, there's a note from Meg.

“She took all our cash, the last of the weed, and Luke's fucking van.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“I can't deal with Cas. Me and Donna are headed to Alaska.” Gabe shakes his head. “Well, ain't that a kick in the head.”

-

They end up going to meet Cas. Mr. Novak is too busy with a run for Congress to bother.

Cas takes in the long hair, the rainbow beads, and the fringe. Gabriel is very fond of fringe.

“Hey, little bro.” Gabriel pulls him into a hug, and Cas winces.

“Gabriel. Injuries. Plural.”

The shorter man makes a sympathetic face and steps back. Sam twines his fingers with Gabriel's automatically, then they both tense, realizing what they've done, two sets of wide eyes going to Cas.

He tilts his head, and narrows his eyes at Sam. “I see. And you are?”

“Sam. Sam Winchester.” He offers a hand and his easy grin. “I've heard so much about you.”

Cas stares at him.

Sam's smile falters and he starts to withdraw his hand. But then it's caught in a strong grip.

“Sam Winchester,” Cas says softly. “Sammy the Stanford lawyer.”

Sam looks at Gabe, who shakes his head with a shrug.  
“Dean.” Cas takes a deep breath. “Dean was in my unit.” His blue eyes are haunted as he lifts them to Sam once again. “He was a good soldier.”

Sam's smile turns sad. “He still is. He'll come home.”

Cas turns away.

-

They take Cas to his house Upstate, in a car they borrowed (Gabriel stole) in the city. It's a disaster. They volunteer to stay and help him get things in order.

He's grateful for the help. They're grateful for a place to stay after Alastair kicked them out.

When Gabe tells Cas about Meg, he laughs. “That's my girl.”

He never mentions her again.

They spend the rest of the year getting high and making the place liveable.

\-----

Just before Christmas, Dean breaks.

He held out for as long as he could. But after Garth, well, the prison got a whole lot uglier.

He repeats the things they want him to say. He signs the documents they put in front of him. He gives them the names of other American soldier in the prison who might be trouble.

Dean is a broken man when things start to turn around.

Something big happens, rumors are flying about rescues, and then new prisoners start trickling in.

The trickle turns into a flood, and then all the Americans are gathered together.

They call it Camp Unity.

But even there, Dean is alone.

\-----

Sam and Gabriel take Cas to New York City the next summer. They tell him about the riot and drag him along to some sort of parade the locals are having in remembrance.

Eventually he and Gabriel talk about Michael. And Luke.

They visit the graves together for Thanksgiving.

Mr. Novak tries to get Cas to come to public appearances while he's in DC, but after hearing what his son thinks about the war, he changes his mind. Cas and Gabe stop speaking to him.

That night Cas gets very drunk and he tells them about Dean. Everything. Including his certainty that Dean is gone. They put a gravestone next to Gabe's brothers'. (Sam still has faith, but it makes Cas feel better.)

After American soldiers gun down students at a protest in Ohio, they all get much more involved in the Peace movement. Gabriel organizes events. Sam devotes his time towards the legal fight.

Cas just talks. He tells groups of people, from thousands on a sunny plain to Congressional panels, everything about what's happening in Vietnam.

\-----

It's late night, stars shining bright in the Indiana sky, as a broken man trudges up the steps to a house with a white picket fence and rose bushes perfectly trimmed.

He sees none of this, because behind those green eyes are nothing but the faces of all the men he's seen die.

The golden light from the happy home spills out, illuminating him as the woman's eyes widen in shock. Its warmth doesn't reach him.

“Oh my god.” She's crying and throwing her arms around him.

He wraps an arm around her, stares at the not-so-little boy who's eyes are exactly like Sammy's.

Home. He's finally home.

Lisa pulls back and he looks down into those beautiful brown eyes, and wishes they were blue.


	5. Chapter 5

There's an odd buzzing in his ears, and Sam waves it away, thinking there's a damn fly in here again, but it doesn't stop. He grunts and lets his eyes slide open, staring blankly at the ceiling before he understands it's the door buzzer.

He wiggles out from under Gabriel and Cas, who curl into each other at the loss of their warm pillow.

Sam tugs on a pair of cords and then runs a hand through his hair.

The buzzing is still going insistently, and he stumbles towards the door, mildly annoyed as he yanks it open.  And then even more annoyed at the tiny woman standing there, tall redhead backing her up.

“Meg. Donna.” Sam's voice is flat and there's a hint of anger to it. “Thought you two fucked off to Alaska. _With all our shit_.”

“Sam.” His gaze flicks to Donna as she speaks. “Is Cas home?”

“He's sleeping.” But Sam steps aside to let the girls in. “I'm not waking him up for you.”

Sam goes to make some coffee as the duo settles on their tiny couch. The smell must wake Gabriel up, because he comes wandering out of the bedroom, without a stitch of clothing, naturally. He stops as he sees Meg, gaze darkening, and Gabriel's rages are terrible things, so Same steps in front of him, cuts the firestorm off at the pass.

“Gabe, she's here to see Cas.”

Those whiskey colored eyes look up into his a long time, and then Gabriel spins on his heel and goes back into the bedroom, slams the door behind him. Sam sighs, he knows he won't see Gabe for hours now.

He pours a cup of coffee for each of them and then settles into a recliner, sips at his own cup. “So. How was Alaska?”

“We never made it,” Donna shrugs, “Ended up in Seattle. Got a real nice place, good jobs. It's real nice out there.” Meg smiles over at Donna. “We went to see the ocean, it was amazing.”

“Meg.”

Sam looks over his shoulder to see Cas standing in the bedroom doorway, dressed in nothing but a pair of low slung jeans. Sam is fully attached to Gabriel, but damned if Cas wasn't beautiful. He can see the appreciation in Meg's eyes as well as she rises and goes over to give her husband a hug.

“Hey, sweetie, I'm glad you're back okay. Sorry I wasn't here for you but I thought about trying to go back to what we were before and..." She shrugs and sighs.  "I panicked.”

Cas closes his eyes a minute, and then pats her on the back, turning his face to kiss her forehead.

“All is forgiven.” He lets her go, makes himself a cuppa and then leans against the kitchen counter. “So you came back to apologize?”

Meg shakes her head, dark waves tumbling over her shoulders. “I came to give you something.”

Donna reaches into her purse, hands a large, thick envelope to her girlfriend, who in turn hands it to Cas.

“This came about two weeks ago, addressed to you.” Her dark eyes are sad. “I read the one, just to see what it was, and then we decided to bring it out to you.”

Cas takes the envelope silently, gives the girls a tight smile as Sam escorts them out the door. He sits down on the recently vacated couch and looks at the envelope.

“Cas?”

Sapphire blue eyes flick up to look at him and then back down. “I've got a bad feeling about this.”

“Then don't fucking read it,” Gabriel grumbles as he wanders out from his sulk, clears some space on the counter to start rolling a joint.

“I think I have to.”

“What the fuck ever.” He takes the weed and heads back into the bedroom. Sam watches him go, knows better than to follow his lover, or that anger will be turned on Sam, and he isn't a real big fan of being punched or screamed at.

Sam turns back to Cas. “Want me to open it for you?”

The dark haired man shakes his head and then opens it with a decisive movement. Several letters fall out onto the coffee table. Cas furrows a brow and reaches for the one that's opened, blue eyes darting back and forth as he scans it, and then leans back in the couch and reads it again, this time slower.

Sam watches over the rim of his coffee cup.

Cas looks up when he's done, wordlessly hands it over to Sam.

-

_June 3, 1971_

_Dear Mr. Novak,_

_First, I must apologize for this unsolicited letter, I've run out of other options._

_I can't seem to get in touch with my husband's family, and since you were his commanding officer, I was hoping that you would be able to tell me what's happening._

_His letters have stopped coming. I received a telegram saying he'd been taken by the Viet Cong but no one will tell me anything else. The Army Office won't take my telephone calls any more._

_His name is Dean Winchester._

_Please, please let me know something, anything._

_Sincerely,_

_Lisa Winchester._

-

“Holy fucking hell,” Sam swears low, runs a hand through his long hair. He lifts his gaze up to Cas, who starts opening and reading the rest of the letters like a madman, then hands each one over to the taller man to read, until he gets to the very last one.

“ _Sam_.”

Sam looks up from the letter he's reading, arches a brow at the tears he's sure he sees shimmering in Cas' eyes.

-

_Dear Mr Novak,_

_I'm not sure if any of my letters have reached you, but I wanted to tell you that Dean has come home._

_He's not well, but he's alive._

_I'm sorry for any trouble I may have caused you._

_Sincerely,_

_Lisa Winchester_

-

“What? Give me that.” Sam tears the letter free from Cas grip, reads it over three times then buries his face in his hands.

“He's alive, oh my god, he's alive.” Then Sam pushes up, starts pacing. “I gotta go see him, I gotta – I gotta pack.” He dashes off into the bedroom.

Cas picks up the letter and smooths it, places it on top of the pile.

Dean's alive. He's _alive_.

And it doesn't change a _damn_ _thing_.

Cas leaves the letters on the coffee table and goes into the bedroom to grab a shirt.

Sam is stuffing things in a duffel, Gabriel is passed out on the bed. The taller man looks up from his packing to look at Cas. “You'll tell him I had to go?”

Cas nods once. “Yeah, Sam. Be safe, man.” He's not gonna ask if Sam is coming back, he doesn't want to know.

Cas slips on some shoes and goes outside, absently goes to the poorly taken care of garden and starts pulling weeds. He's not even really paying attention, just focusing on keeping himself together. He lifts glimmering eyes up to watch Sam leave, hyper like an overeager puppy, and then turns his face down to the ground, lets his tears water the plants.

Because Dean's alive. But still lost to him.

-

Gabriel wakes up alone, dusk settling into the sky, and it's that kind of alone that tells him there's no one else in the house, and hasn't been for some time.

He shrugs into some clothing and stumbles out into the living room. Sam and Cas are nowhere to be seen. Gabriel frowns as he sees the letters on the table, and flops down, idly scanning them.

He gives a low whistle when he reads the final one, lifting honey-amber eyes up sightlessly.

Sam's brother, Cas' wartime lover, is alive and happily living with his fucking _wife_.

“That's some fucked up shit, right there,” he says out loud to himself, before rising and padding over to the cabinet, pulling a half-bottle of whiskey out.

Seems like he's been left to his own devices for the immediate future, he intends to spend it blind drunk. And _not_ thinking about the fact that Sam's gone and probably not coming back.

-

After a while Cas stops pretending to garden and just sits there. He can't focus on any one thought long enough to do anything, it's like his mind is a broken train that can't get back on its track.

It's not until his stomach growls loudly that Cas realizes how long he's been sitting outside. It's full night now, and he reluctantly forces himself to get up, to go inside.

Gabriel looks up in surprise. “Thought you'd gone with Sam.”

Cas shrugs and falls into the chair. “What would be the point?”

Gabriel furrows a brow and opens his mouth, then thinks about it, really _thinks_ , and then he purses his lips and nods, offers the bottle to his brother.

They get blind drunk together.

-

Sam knocks on the door a few times but there's no answer. After a moment's indecision, he walks around the back of the house, following the sound of a lawn mower. He stops and smile softly at the tableau before him.

Lisa is hanging laundry while Dean mows the back forty, and Sam can see Ben doing something with sticks – making a kite, he decides. Lisa sees him first and smiles, jerks her chin towards Dean, and so that's where Sam heads first.

His smile fades as he comes closer, sees the corded twisted silver threads of scars shining through the tan. He counts at least twenty separate injuries before Dean sees him, and shuts off the mower, stares at his brother with a slow grin creeping across his face.

“What the _hell_ is on your head?”

Sam can't help it, he laughs, and then Dean is hugging him, and he squeezes back, and maybe there's a couple tears in Dean's eyes, but he blinks them back.

“Damn it's good to see you, Sammy.”

“Dude, I'm so sorry. We thought you were _dead_. There's a gravestone and everything.”

Dean grins, a twinkle of the old mischief shining in his brilliant green eyes. “We? You marry some fancy lawyer lady?”

Sam flicks his gaze away then back, licking his lower lip a minute. “Uh, not exactly.”

“Sam! Did you get my letters?” Lisa comes up behind him, and he turns and gives her a quick hug.

“No, not exactly,” he begins, but then Sam's cut off by Ben whooping as he gets the kite in the air.

He laughs and watches the kid, then turns to see Dean walking away, taking the mower back to the garage.

Ben looks over his shoulder to see if Dean's watching, just in time to see his dad vanish around the corner.

Sam frowns and goes to help Ben. “Hey, kid, that was great, bet it would fly higher with a tail.”

-

“Dude, what's up with you leaving earlier? Ben looked real excited about that kite.”

They're sitting outside on the porch, drinking post-dinner beer from the bottle.

“Sammy, do not start with me, I gotta hear that crap from Lisa every fucking day.”

“You always hated when Dad did that to us.”

Dean rounds on him, eyes flashing with rage. “Don't you _ever_ compare me to him.”

Sam lifts his hands in a placating gesture. “Fine, fine.” He takes a sip of beer and looks out into the stars.

“How did you know to come, Sam?” Lisa comes out the door, sipping at some tea as she perches on the railing.

“I did see some letters, but they weren't addressed to me.” He looks at Dean a second, then back at Lisa. “I'm living with Cas and Gabriel Novak.”

Dean stiffens, and Sam can see his brother clenching his jaw out of the corner of his eye.

“Oh, Dean's old boss, or whatever its called?”

Sam leans back. “Yup.” He hesitates a moment, then shrugs and decides to put it all out there. “I'm going by Sam Novak now.”

Lisa furrows her brow, confused, but Dean rises from his chair and stares hard at Sammy. “You changed your name.” His voice is flat but Sam can hear the anger underneath it. Being a Winchester is far more important to Dean than it ever has been to Sam.

“Yeah, Gabriel and I-” He doesn't really know how to finish that and the words hang out in the air for a long moment.

Lisa rises abruptly. “Get out of my house.”

Dean sighs. “Lisa...”

“No, Dean, I accepted that you had a, a _thing_ , when you were over there, and there weren't any other options, but _this_ ,” she points to Sam, “I will _not_ have it under my roof.”

They both watch her stomp into the house.

“You told her about Cas.”

“Not by name.” Dean sighs and runs a hand over his short, military haircut. “She deserved to know.” And then he flicks his eyes up to Sam, startled.

“He told you?”

Sam nods. “The night of your funeral.”

Sam's duffel is tossed onto the porch, and he gives Dean a wry smile. “Looks like that's my cue.”

-

They're watching TV when Gabriel hears the heavy tread of Sam's boots and he closes his eyes. _Thank fucking god_. He's already in motion when the door opens, and he throws himself in Sam's arms.

Sam catches the smaller man easily, hoists him up and wraps arms around his lover. Gabriel's legs automatically wrap around the taller man's waist, and he lifts his face to Sam's as he turns, presses Gabriel between him and the wall.

“Hey baby,” Gabriel whispers against the soft lips. “I missed the hell out of you.”

Cas smiles softly, and then flicks his eyes down sadly.

Sam's large hands curve around and cup Gabriel's ass, squeezing gently as Sam trails kisses along the shorts man's neck before nipping gently, and then whispering into Gabriel's ear.

“I'm going to fuck you so hard that you won't be able to walk for _days_.”

Gabriel makes a soft purring sound, and rolls his hips against Sam involuntarily. “Yes, lets do that.”

Sam chuckles low, grabs his duffle with one hand and carries both it and Gabriel into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

Cas hears the creak of the bed as they climb on and shakes his head. He gets up from the couch, takes two steps towards the doorway, because Sam left the door wide open, and then looks up – and freezes in his tracks.

Dean shifts uncomfortably from side to side in the doorway, biting his lip and then offers up a tentative smile. “Hey, Cas.”

For a long minute, he can't move, can't breathe, and then a brilliant smile breaks out over Cas' face.

“Hello, Dean.”

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration: Don't Fear The Reaper - Blue Oyster Cult
> 
> Please let me know if I need to tag anything. <3
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](goddessofcruelty.tumblr.com)


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